


blue light

by empty_throne



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, PWP, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_throne/pseuds/empty_throne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing more than what happens in the fade-to-black with Fenris after "A Bitter Pill." Allusions to past abuse, because, well, canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blue light

He pushed Caraline against the wall, tattoos flaring in a brief halo of blue light. The threat implied by that flicker was enough to freeze Fenris where he stood, lips moving to shape a soundless apology.

Apologies weren't what she wanted from him. In that moment, when Fenris was too distracted to resist, Caraline turned and pushed _him_ against the wall, trapping him within the fence of her arms and seeking out his mouth.

He answered her with a passion that bordered on the desperate. Any skill or subtlety he possessed was gone, lost in the fire that drove him. Caraline didn't mind. She slid one hand along his jaw and opened her mouth to him, feeling a hunger she hadn't known in years. Maybe ever. This wasn't a roll in the hay with an inexperienced Lothering farmboy; she was a grown woman now, and she knew what she wanted.

She wanted Fenris.

They stumbled backward, off the wall and toward the bed, turning as they went. The edge of the mattress hit Fenris behind the knees and he went down, Caraline half-straddling him. Yes, much better. She braced herself with one hand and cupped the other behind his head, fingers tangling in the white hair, exploring his mouth, feeling his breath hot against her cheek when they parted. Oh, to the Void with foreplay; they could learn each others' quirks later. She released his head and reached lower, finding her way by touch to one of the buckles that secured his breastplate.

Fenris' hand closed around her wrist like a vise, and he went rigid beneath her.

Caraline stopped. She drew back enough to see Fenris' eyes, and found in them something she had never seen before: a naked mixture of fear and desire and loathing. And shock, as if he had only just now realized what he was doing. What _they_ were doing.

She remembered his bitter words about Hadriana. No point in asking what was wrong; she could fill that in for herself. With enough detail that she might go back and stomp the bitch's face in a second time, just on principle.

But that wouldn't solve this problem. Caraline considered backing off, giving Fenris time to work through the memories that paralyzed him now. She knew him too well, though. Brooding--and he did brood, whatever he claimed--didn't fix anything. The only way out was through.

She asked, "Do you trust me?"

In a voice that was little more than a roughened whisper, Fenris said, "With my life."

"Do you trust me with your body?"

He stared at her, every muscle knotted tight. Caraline thought, _he's going to say no_. She was kneeling over him, trapping him, dominating him; the fear and the horror said all too clearly what associations that called up. And if the desire was bound up in those things, the good and the bad tangled together by years of abuse, it wasn't enough to carry him past them.

Fenris nodded.

At first Caraline couldn't believe it. But after a moment Fenris's hand unclamped from her wrist, sinking down to lie quiet on the coverlet, and she knew he meant it.

She straightened up, drawing him with her, off the bed. Then she knelt, running her palm down the outside of his leg, over over the hard edges of his armor, until she found the buckles that held the greaves in place. First the right side, then the left, feeling the fine tremor in his muscles as she worked. His toes flexed against the carpet to keep him steady.

Next she rose and addressed the gauntlets and vambraces. Piece by piece, she laid the armor aside, revealing the slender, calloused hands beneath. Fenris' breath came quick and shallow, but he made not a sound in protest.

She kissed him, slower than before, savoring every contact of lips and tongue and teeth. Fenris' hands rose to grip her shoulders, and hers sought out the buckles that had stopped him a moment before, right and left together. He faltered as she undid them, a small sound in his throat betraying his tension. It was too brief to be called a whimper. Varric was right about the armor being Fenris' way of warning people off. It protected more than just his flesh.

The metal came loose in Caraline's hands, and she dropped it to the carpet. Now the laces, her fingers working quickly, opening the supple black hide and pushing it off Fenris' shoulders. She felt the tattoos before she saw them, hard ridges that burned cold beneath her fingertips. Then he was bare to the waist, and she had to step back and look.

The veins of lyrium visible on his arms and throat had hinted at what lay beneath--but the hint fell short of the reality. Silver-blue lines formed an intricate web over his chest, his stomach, wrapping around to his back. Seen one way, they bound his flesh in a dangerous cage; seen in another way, they supported him, feeding power through his body. No wonder he was so strong, despite his delicate build. But he paid a price for that strength.

Caraline stripped quickly out of her own clothing, not wanting Fenris to feel like he was on display, and impatient to proceed regardless. He slid out of the remainder of his hide while she was crawling up onto the bed, and crossing that boundary appeared to have given him back some of his confidence, for he came to her eagerly enough. Or maybe he was trying to avoid more scrutiny. She didn't get a good look at the rest of the tattoos, her vision occupied by white hair and a pointed ear and eyes whose green was almost lost in the expanding black of their pupils.

But he couldn't avoid it forever. Caraline pushed him onto his back, rising to straddle his legs, and ran one hand down the lyrium-threaded expanse of his body to his cock.

They hadn't tattooed _that_. But the veins continued down his legs, as she had suspected, and came together in a complex knot at his groin. Fenris shuddered when she trailed her fingers across those lines, then shuddered again when she wrapped her hand around his cock. He was hard already, and she thought it would be better to just keep going. Part of her wondered what it would be like to run her tongue along the tattoos, but that was a question to answer on another night.

She was as wet as he was hard; he slipped inside her easily. Fenris groaned as she sank down onto him, fingers digging into the coverlet. Caraline lifted them and placed them on her hips; his unwillingness to touch her looked too much like something Hadriana had trained into him. His fingers dug into her, then, but she didn't mind.

"Look at me," she whispered, not meaning it as a command. But Fenris responded as if it had been, opening his eyes and fixing them on her.

With the weight of his gaze on her, Caraline began to rise and fall, thighs taking the burden easily. She licked one fingertip and slid it between her legs, rubbing gently. Not too fast; she didn't want to come too soon. She wanted to enjoy this, Fenris laid out beneath her and panting with increasing speed.

Blue light flooded her vision, the tattoos flaring to life once more, this time without the black hide to contain their radiance. It startled a cry from Caraline--because she _felt_ it, a lightning shock through her own body. She lost her rhythm, grabbing at Fenris' wrists for support.

His hips surged up beneath her, thrusting as deep as he could go. A growl sounded deep in his chest, Fenris throwing his head back, exposing his lyrium-marked throat. If she'd been closer, Caraline would have bitten into his skin, letting the cold fire of those marks burn at her mouth and tongue. Instead she gripped his wrists and fought to regain her rhythm, slamming down as he rose to meet her, riding him with bruising force. With each thrust she could feel the lyrium's energy pulse through her, a stimulus just painful enough to cross the line into pleasure. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, and it built like a storm in her skin, until she lost sight of everything around her, the world narrowing to blue light and Fenris' wrists in her hands and the ecstasy that came crashing down like thunder.

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first PWP. It got into my head and wouldn't go away.


End file.
